More than Real
by Delta Shout
Summary: While running from the wrath of Pan in the Neverland jungle, Emma finds herself separated from Henry and the others. She's also not in a jungle anymore. What the hell? (I had hoped to get this out before premiere, but alas time zones always muck me up. Fear not, there are no spoilers within this story)


**This is my first step into OUAT fiction, so I hope you enjoy it. This was written before S3 but set sometime during it, so will almost immediately become AU. I'm not going to say any more up here, in case I spoil something for you.**

**Please see the end for a disclaimer.**

**More than Real**

**xXx**

"Head towards the trees!" Gold shouted.

The Shadow had not been pleased when it had discovered it's newest prize had been taken from it. Henry's rescue team had quickened their pace back to the _Jolly Roger_ once they'd heard the unearthly moan from behind them. Emma felt the hair on the back of her neck rise to attention as the nightmarish wail reached its crescendo.

Her son stumbled along the rocky path, his smaller stature and exhaustion from his kidnapping slowing him down. Without hesitation, her father hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman's hold and continued without slowing. She prayed to any god that might be listening it would help, that they could outrun the Shadow.

Emma hoped it was just her imagination that cast huge dark and angry clouds forming in the sky as they ran, though the knowledge that this was a magical world made her strongly doubt it.

"Are you kidding? There's a**_ Drome_** in there!" Regina screeched in protest. She tried to turn around but was swept along by the tide of bodies behind her.

The ground began to quake beneath their feet.

"Precisely!" He retorted.

The trees were getting closer. The clouds were getting thicker.

"What's a D-"

~xXx~

"-rome?"

Emma woke up.

She was lying in a meadow.

It was a nice meadow, with soft soil beneath her body and sheep producing a pleasant background bleating in the distance. A light breeze made the image complete; the blades of grass looked like waves in the ocean as the wind brushed over them.

This was worrying. She was sure she'd been in the Neverland jungle before she closed her eyes.

She hadn't been alone then, either.

Emma took a moment to check for any damages, particularly to her head, then picked a random direction to walk. Surely she would come across something, she thought, a road or a stream would be helpful. Another human being could be good. Henry or her parents would be better.

Why had she woken up alone, she wondered. _Think, little brain, think. _Why had she woken up in sheep paddock? There were so many questions to be asked, but there was no one around to answer them.

Regina and Gold had talked of something called a Drome. That was just before the landscape had changed. Gold must have thought it would help them escape, but Regina had seemed terrified of it. And now Emma was in a field in the middle of nowhere. Something must have happened. Something to send her into another place, like a portal.

_A portal,_ she thought,_ of course!_ That must have been it. A Drome must be some kind of magical portal and maybe Regina knew was unreliable. Or unstable, whatever. It would make sense. And maybe that's why Emma had been separated from the rest. She hoped she was the only one split from the group.

The best thing to do would be to find them.

And a good way to do that would be to run up to that guy with the cart she'd just spotted on the road and ask for directions.

~xXx~

Emma had noticed a couple of things on her way into town.

The first was the man she was travelling with. He was clearly some kind of farmer, what with the cages filled with chickens and eggs in the cart, not to mention the donkey pulling it along. If she had ever lived in a small town before Storybrooke she may have been able to tell exactly what he was, but Emma had grown up a city gal; the range of her knowledge about farmyard poultry was limited to the difference between the clucking and quacking kind.

He wore ye-olden-day clothes like that of Mulan and Aurora's village, yet made no derogatory comments on her modern style of a red leather jacket or the woman-in-pants combo. He barely even seemed to register it; his eyes hadn't goggled at the sight of her trying to flag him down, he hadn't given her any puzzled looks when she'd breathlessly attempted to make a story up as to why she was in a field with no idea where the field was, and he hadn't even snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eye when he thought she wasn't looking. He was either this world's most tolerant guy, or something was wrong with him.

Speaking of something wrong, the second thing Emma had noticed was really starting to bug her.

It was the horizon.

It seemed normal every time she looked at it, but that was the point; when she wasn't concentrating, the horizon would change. Not in the way that happens in fantasy movies but... it - it was like a painting. From afar it was just beautiful scenery, but when you focused on the background shrubbery individually you were able to tell that the trees in the distance were just green and brown blobs. Not blobs like couldn't-find-my-glasses blobs but true splotches of paint in a vague shape, capturing the 'essence' of a tree. It was like this world was a film with a limited budget and tried to attract your attention with the actors on set so you didn't notice the cardboard cutout scenery.

And when you did, it suddenly became a tree again. Just like every other trees you'd ever seen; no blobs or cardboard, it'd always been a tree.

She'd tried to ask the farmer if this was a natural phenomenon but he just grumbled something unintelligible. He hadn't really spoken at all - at least nothing that she could comprehend. At first Emma had been surprised when she had wondered whether this world's people spoke a different language. After all, she was sure there wasn't a rule that all the different worlds have one language. Why, just look at Earth - hundreds of languages at your disposal, all different and unique.

The blobby village in the distance had eventually transformed into a regular village when they'd got close enough. It was picturesque; quaint in a thatched-cottage, Robin-Hood-Men-in-Tights, burn-the-houses way. It sat in amidst the meadows and a little harbor of sheer cliffs, surrounded by sheep from the hilly farmlands and on the edge of a seaport.

There were several more carts on the road in to the town and Emma was keen to examine them for any passengers before moving on, as the thought had occurred that any of her travelling companions may have woken up in a similar position and caught a lift into town. Sadly, there was no sign of them.

But, she figured, that did not mean it couldn't have happened. The place was filling up with people the further in they went (it appeared to be some kind of market day) and the fact that it was a surprisingly substantial sea town mean they could be anywhere - in town or out of it.

She'd have to ask around, see what other people knew or may have seen. The telltale green glow of a portal would be an obvious sign of where to look. She would also kind of like to know where she was, help her get her bearings. She thanked the farmer for helping her out and waved goodbye.

"_Hrmmrmmh_," the cart driver muttered as she departed company.

~xXx~

Finding herself more lost than before in the crowd in an unknown town, Emma eventually gave up and stopped in front of a random market stall for directions.

"I know this is a stupid thing to ask but do you know where I am?"

The fruit seller looked confused. "_Fawfwafa?_"

"Here's the thing; I know it's kind of hard to explain, but I just woke up and I wasn't where I was when I fell asleep," Emma said, even though she herself was puzzled by the 'fell asleep' part. She had definitely woken up in a field, but she wasn't sure if she had gone to sleep or been knocked unconscious or what. But that wasn't really important right now, "Look - I'm trying to find my son. I think he might be here. Can you help me?"

"_Fwafawfafaw fawfa afwaafwa,_" said the fruit seller. "_Afwa fawfa fawf_."

Emma blinked. It suddenly dawned on her what the lady was saying. Or wasn't saying. "Can you understand me?"

"_Fafawfafa fwafaafawafaw wafawfafawf fafwfa wfaw fafawfa awf_." She smiled cheerfully and gestured to the fruit on the stand.

She sighed, "Guess not, huh."

The woman picked a ripe apple out of the crate and offered it to her. Emma shook her head in response.

"No thanks." The fruit seller held out the apple again. "Sorry, but I don't have any money."

"_Fawfwa?_"

She tried the universal body language for 'out of dough', palms flat out and held to the sky, fingers splayed and waving both arms around. "No. No money."

"_Fawwa fwa_." The lady grabbed one of her open hands and pressed the apple into it. "_Fawaf fwafwa_."

Emma's fingers curled around to clasp the fruit firmly. She was oddly touched by the gesture. "Thank you."

"_Fwa fawa wafawa_."

Downhearted but no less determined, Emma kept searching.

Stall by stall she went, asking the same questions she had put to the fruit seller, but the answer was a similar one. None of the residents could give her an answer she could understand - heck, she couldn't even tell if they knew she was asking a question. At one point, in desperation, she had even tried to speak their gibberish. All that had given her was an angry retort and a walk of shame away from the stall in question. Apparently "blah blah" was quite offensive here.

Finding an upturned wooden crate to sit on, Emma sank down in exhaustion.

_Was Henry even here?_ This was a big village, it would take her ages to comb through it all. He might be in another town - another country even. She'd only just got him back and now he could be worlds away again.

All she could hope for was that the rest of his family was with him. Even if it was Regina or Gold to protect him.

She was tired, hungry, worried and scared, in a strange world where no one spoke the language. But she could survive here, she **had** to survive here. Survive for Henry if nothing else.

She felt in her pocket for the apple she'd stuck there earlier. She hadn't been a big fan of apples after the whole Regina-turnover thing, but filling her stomach would be one less thing on her mind.

Out of some sense of caution, Emma examined the fruit from all sides before taking a bite. It was green and fresh, with a small bruise on one side but she could eat around that if she wished. There was nothing visibly wrong with it, but poison didn't really leave any tell-tale marks. That's really the whole point of the poison; you can't tell until its too late.

Her stomach growled.

_Oh, this was stupid!_ Emma said to herself. She wasn't going to be poisoned by a little old lady selling fruit - that was Snow White's shtick. She tossed the apple in the air to banish her paranoia and caught it with one hand. The apple was perfectly okay. She raised it to her lips-

"Don't touch that!"

The apple was slapped out of her hands before she could get it to her mouth. Regina flew into her line of sight, kicking the fruit away when it landed in the dirt.

Emma was shocked at the entrance and the sting of her arms, and a bit angry, but somewhere inside gave a sigh of relief. She wasn't alone here.

The words caught up to her ears. She frowned at Regina. "Why not? I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure you haven't had time to poison all of them." It was a low blow, especially now that they had agreed to a truce for Henry's sake, but Emma was hungry and had been given that apple fair and square.

Her Majesty at least had the decency to let that pass by. "I didn't poison them, but in a way they_ are_ deadly. If you eat anything here you'll stay here forever." At her puzzled look, Regina sighed. "Have you not heard any fairy tales, Miss Swan? Not the Disney ones, but the gritty ones where fairies lie and cheat and steal babies in the middle of the night."

"I thought that was Gold," Emma said.

"I'd love to see his face if you ever tell him that," she smirked. "My point is - if you enter into another realm you don't know, you don't eat the food. Some will not allow you to leave if you've sampled from their stores."

"Kind of like the Greek God and the Devil? The one where she eats the fruit and that's why it's winter?"

Regina's nose wrinkled at Emma's abomination of Classic Greek Mythology. "More than a bit askew of the original," her voice dripped with disdain, "but you still understand the basic premise. Well this is the sort of realm where you don't 'eat the fruit', unless you wish it to stay winter."

"Then why did we come here? And more to the point, how did we get here? _Where_ is here?"

"We're in a dream world. We got here because Gold knows that the Shadow is afraid of the Drome."

"You said that word before. What is it, what does it mean?"

"A spider spins webs, yes? Well a Drome spins dreams. Think about that for a second, before you say anything. A spider will lay out a beautiful trap, and when the prey wanders into it the spider waits and watches and lets the fly tangle itself up in the web while it's struggling to get out. Then the spider comes along and feasts on the remains. A Drome does the same thing, but instead of trying to get free you willingly fall further into the dream and smile and laugh, eating dream food while your body starves. And when you get nice and runny the Drome drinks you up."

"Then how the hell do we get out?"

"We get back to the others and find out whose dream it is. That person is the only one that can spot the Drome for what it is. It shape-shifts, you see, for protection. Because if you manage to kill it in the dream you can kill it in reality."

"Others? You know where they are? And what do you mean 'whose dream', I thought you said it was a spider's web."

"Like a spider, not a web. The Drome targets a particular person, feeding off their desires. It makes a dream for you that you want to believe is reality. And the only way to get out is to find the Drome within the dream and cut off its head. Now let's get back before the wonder twins decide to do something stupid."

~xXx~

Regina had managed to round up David whilst Emma was making her way into town. He had lived up to the family motto and found Henry in an empty barn loft five minutes away, who had spotted his grandmother wandering through the crowd from his perch. They agreed to make the place a base for operations, and Henry to get down from there if he knew what was good for him, whilst they found the rest of their rag-tag crew. They checked in every so often to update the others on their search through the deceptively large town.

Since then, only Emma had been found. Her parents and son rejoiced in finding her alive and well, but the family reunion had to be put on the back-burner while they tried to find the missing members of their group. Clearly this dream world was not any of theirs, so they had to act quickly before the real target of the Drome got peckish. It turns out if the dreamer ate any of the food, they may not ever get out of here.

Emma made the suggestion of heading towards the docks. If Hook hadn't woken up there, she was sure the pirate would gravitate towards it. Having no luck locating Mr. Gold, they agreed to all head down to the water together. Hook, after spending so long hunting his crocodile, could predict Gold's actions better than the rest of them combined. It was the logical choice, because if Hook turned out to be the dreamer, they wouldn't have to search for Gold at all; once the Drome was killed he would wake in Neverland with the rest of them.

On their journey through the throngs of people, Emma felt the urge to quench her curiosity. Throwing her head over her shoulder to catch Regina's eye, she asked "What's with all the people? Why can't any of them understand us? And for that matter, what's with the weird distance-thing?" She waved her hand dramatically at the blobby ships they could see on the horizon.

The font of all knowledge looked up, "All Dromes have a limited attention span. They have to sacrifice some of the details to maintain the more important things, like people. The smaller and weaker ones can only produce one roomful of dream, so if you walk so far you return to where you were, like a kind of dream loop. The more well-fed, the more powerful, and this one is very well fed. This village and surrounds had to have come from the Dreamer's memories; to recreate this world in such vivid detail so as not to raise suspicion it had to cut back on the other less important things, like proper speech for each peasant."

"But that ought to make it even less likely to work. I mean, _we_ noticed right away," Charming weighed in, seeming to bristle at Regina's inflection on the word 'peasant'.

"Yes, but I doubt that whoever it is has managed to. If this Drome is half as clever as I think, it would have reserved most of its power to surround the Dreamer. If I'm right, the closer we get to the target, the more realistic the world will become. " Emma frowned. Apart from a few inconsistencies, the world looked pretty real to her.

Henry looked between the adults. "But Mr. Gold and Captain Hook knew they were walking into a trap. 'Cos they've both been to Neverland before. They'd know what a Drome can do."

"But," Regina explained patiently, "If the Drome is smart enough, it would be able to find your deepest desires and recreate them. It gives you something you long for, something you wish for so badly if you woke up there you'd want to believe it to be true." She gave him a half-hearted smile. It didn't take much to imagine what Regina's fantasy come to life would be. And if it had been her, Emma was sure it would already be too late.

She began to speed up. If Regina could be tricked into believing the Drome's false Utopia, than it was more than likely that the real target had been sucked into the illusion. Gold and Hook _were_ the most desperate of souls. It was highly likely that they had fallen for the deception.

The docks were, thankfully, simple. One long pier with two jetties branching off into the water, where cargo ships were being unloaded in between the smaller fishing boats. A few scavenging seagulls picked through the discarded shells and fish scales, looking for a free meal.

All along the boardwalk were fishmongers spruiking their wares. Emma and company had to wave away the insistent shop-keeps, gesturing emphatically to their freshly caught sea creatures. Cries of "_Hrn! Hrhrn hrn!_" and "_Brreh hre errb!_" were as common and as incomprehensible as the calls of the birds above.

They found Hook rather fast after that, as a man dressed in black with a hook for a hand tends to stand out in a crowd.

He was staring up unblinking at a tavern sign. He seemed to be in a daze, his eyes fixed but unfocused. The people moved around him without question, avoiding entering his personal space even though he stood in the middle of the walkway.

Emma gave a long look at the placard above the alehouse, it seemed nothing out of the ordinary. It was entitled 'The Duke's Men', a name that fit criteria typical of small establishments.

"Hook?"

"Mmm...?"

Emma's stomach knotted. With the inattentive look in his eye and his vague answer, she feared he may have doomed them all. She waved a hand in front of his face "Can you hear me? Have you eaten anything?"

His eyes snapped back into the present. "Of course I haven't." He glared at Emma, "What do you take me for, love? I may not be as clever as some, but it takes an awful lot to fool a pirate. **_Particularly_ **one that has come across a Drome or two in his travels."

"Then are you okay?" Mary-Margaret, ever the devoted and loving mother-figure, laid a hand on his shoulder, "You were zoned out when we found you. I don't know how long you've been like that."

"It's just," his attention slipped again as he turned his gaze back to the writing over the pub. "I know this place." His voice seemed quite distant, as if he was speaking to them from across the years.

"Really? You recognize it?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure..." He trailed off, seemingly distracted by his memories of the town versus the dream landscape. "I don't think this is my dream," he said more firmly.

"How can you tell?"

"Instinct."

Regina rolled her eyes, "that's a lot of help."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Listen. If the Drome was targeting me, we'd be on the _Jolly Roger_ right now, getting rascally drunk. No," he turned 360 degrees and stopped to face the sign again, "This is not my dream, but I do have memories of this place." He pointed to the tavern, finger waving in elation. "I remember when we pulled into port here. That was where I met the love of my life."

The conversation they'd had up the beanstalk danced up and down trying to grab her attention. Replaying that night, she remembered a sombre look, a true love and a tattoo on his wrist. Emma hazarded a guess. "Milah?"

"Milah," he confirmed solemnly. "Then that means..."

He twirled around again, getting his bearings. Arm like the point of a compass, it stopped in the direction of the hills. "We need to go that way."

"And how do you know which way to go?"

"Because this isn't my dream," Hook turned back to them, his face suddenly ashen, "it's the Crocodile's. And if this Drome is as powerful as I think it is, we may already be too late."

~xXx~

They ran for their lives.

Hook's distress had instilled a fear in them that Emma had never felt before. Running from Ogres or Giants or the Shadow did not compare with this terror that filled her as they all followed the pirate. Perhaps it was because they were running _towards_ the danger in an attempt to prevent it, rather than running_ from_ it.

The dream people between them and their goal seemed to melt away, leaving their path clear of obstacles. Though where they were headed, only Hook knew. On and on they ran, straight though the busy markets and crowded cobblestone streets.

They ran on, further on, up the steep inclination and onto the highlands. They were running in the almost completely opposite direction that Emma had come from. The area was mostly the same, filled with fields and sheep, and in the distance was the beginnings of a forest.

The houses slowly deteriorated as they flew past, gradually becoming more ramshackle and tired. It was as if the distance away from the town centre and port was in direct correlation to how weary and worn out the cottages were. If Emma had given it a moment's thought, she would've considered the place they were heading to be some kind of Fairy-Tale-Land slum.

As one, the group slowed. It was different here, you could tell. A different energy perhaps? It was just as Regina had described - the closer you got to the Drome and it's target, the more realistic it became. It was like living in the same room your whole life; you didn't know the world was so complex and beautiful until you'd taken your first step out the door.

There weren't as many people here than the marketplace, most having gone there to sell their goods or stock their larders. A few women were left, along with some of the older children, sweeping and cleaning as best they could. The younger ones chased each other between the washing lines, laughing and screaming in jest. The poor folk in this part of town may not have been the happiest, but they were content in their lives.

Hook drew to a stop a few metres away from one of the houses. It was indistinguishable from the rest to Emma, but it appeared this was to be their destination.

"You're sure he's here Hook?" Regina looked doubtfully over the cottage. It sagged unhappily around its stone walls, like the others it was old and rundown thanks to the hundreds of generations who had occupied the hut before them. But for all its weather-beaten appearance would suggest, it was not neglected. The walls were not crumbling to pieces as another further down the road had been and one half of the thatch roof was new. Whoever lived in this house now may not have been the richest, but acknowledged the importance of maintaining the difference between outside and inside.

He eyed the hovel critically. "If he isn't there, I'll eat my hook." He nodded at the house, "This is where he lived. Once upon a time."

"Who, Gold?" The Queen snorted. "That's rich. He lived in a _castle_, Hook. I should know, I've been there."

"Before all that. Before he became the Dark One. When he lived as a mortal man with his..." He trailed off as he watched a dark haired woman in blue arrive at the door. She carried a basket with bread, fruit and a small wheel of hard cheese, clearly she'd just gotten back from the markets. "Milah?" he breathed, his voice desperate to see the face of his long-dead lover.

Bumping the door open with her hip, she set the basket down inside. "No it isn't," Charming declared as he looked upon her familiar frame. "It's Belle. Belle!" He waved and yelled to attract her attention before she closed the door behind her.

The woman looked around, dusting her hands onto her pinafore. She was an exact carbon copy of their Belle, albeit in different clothing. Her dress was a soft blue peasant frock, a modest corset laced at the front over a white blouse. Hem cut above her ankles for freedom of movement, it was a comfortable and practical design for the working class woman. Her hair had been pinned back, but the brunette locks had defied their confinement and curled down her neck and around her face.

She brushed the wisps from her eyes, stepping forward and peering curiously at the out-of-breath strangers before her. The expression on her face spoke for her. It declared she did not recognize any of the crew, had no idea who they were, and it dawned on them that Rumplestiltskin's paradise would ultimately include Belle. This was not the Belle they had known, this was just a dream of her.

A few of them shuffled their feet while she looked on, suddenly hyper aware of how their otherworldly appearance would seem to her. Polite enough not to comment, she simply smiled in puzzlement. "_I'm sorry. Do - uh - do I know you?_"

Her use of the English language threw them all off-guard. "Uh..."

"We - um..."

Snow White managed to rally quickly."We're looking for Rumplestiltskin."

"_Oh,_" she sighed in relief. "_My husband's gone to the woods mushroom gathering. He'll be back soon._"

As the gravity of the situation loomed before them, Charming stepped forward. "Listen to me. I know this sound's strange, but its very important. we need to ask a question, and we need you to answer honestly. Did he eat anything this morning?"

Her confused expression made a return. "_No. What does that matter to you? Who are you?_" she narrowed her eyes.

"_Mama!_" They were rescued from answering a lot of awkward questions by a little boy, who called out just before he barreled into her. Laughing in surprise, she scooped him into her arms, twirling and spinning him much to his delight. She was too distracted by the new addition to notice the guests' relaxing stance.

_How ironic,_ Emma thought, _we were saved **from** the Belle._

"_Hello Bae. Did you have fun?_" The boy nodded enthusiastically. "_Well that's good. Did you get a lot of mushrooms?_"

"We certainly did." Rumplestiltskin stepped into view and greeted his wife and child by throwing his arms around both of them.

Emma couldn't help but stare at the miniature version of the father of her child. He was young and tiny and adorable. It hadn't occurred to her until now that this fantasy land of Gold's would be set in the house Neal had grown up in, but now it made sense. The house must have stood for all their happy memories together and Bae's young age in this world would've been just before it all went wrong.

The conflicting sides of Rumplestiltskin were hard to get her head around, now she'd come to think of it. It was almost the complete opposite of what he stood for in Storybrooke; capital gain and material wealth. All that was left in this dream world was good memories and a healthy, happy family. Maybe that's all he desired all along, yet put on a disguise to prevent the world from seeing his weaknesses.

God lifted his dream son out of the arms of his dream wife and tutted. A handkerchief was drawn and proceeded to do battle with the dirt and grime that had accumulated on mini Neal's face. As with all boys of that age, Bae had struggled and squirmed in protest but Rumplestiltskin calmly and patiently removed the larger stains. He was so caring and gentle a father, almost like six-year-old orphan Emma had imagined for herself.

He did not look like any persona Emma had ever met. He didn't look like Mr. Gold with his gold cane and designer suits. He didn't have the leather jerkin or scaled appearance of Rumplestiltskin. He was dressed in a rough woolen tunic, a vest and cravat. They were relatively clean, given the romp through the woods with a child, and though not new they were of good quality.

The limp that gave Mr. Gold his characteristic irregular footsteps, a noise feared by all in Storybrooke, was muted. His walk was slightly lop-sided, but nothing bad enough to rely upon a prop to hold him upright.

He was smiling. The scowl that was permanently carved into his face had disappeared. Whoever this Rumplestiltskin was, he was genuinely happy. Perhaps this was the man behind the masks, the man Belle had fallen for.

He stiffened as he became aware of the onlookers. Emma instantly let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was given to understand that he wouldn't be aware of them, had he eaten any dream food. This seemed like a good sign.

Noticing her husband's body language change, but not able to decipher it, dream Belle excused herself. "_I've got to get water for dinner,_" she said. She collected a waiting bucket from the side of the house and kissed him goodbye. "_Enjoy your friends for a few minutes._"

He watched her wistfully for a moment as she made her way to the well and then turned to his dream son, waiting patiently at his side. A small coin was produced from the pouch at his belt and held in front of a grinning Bae. "I think you collected a lot more mushrooms than me this morning," he said warmly "I'm sure good boys who help their Papa's deserve a treat from the baker."

The boy took the coin in both hands, the small change becoming a fortune in his tiny grasp. "_Thank you Papa,_" he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He slowly and carefully headed down the path to the markets, holding the coin in front of him reverently.

"Well Crocodile," Hook sneered, even now unable to resist the temptation,"What a beautiful performance." He clasped his only hand to his heart. "Truly breathtaking. I'm sure your true love would applaud your showstopping matinee with her understudy."**  
**

Charming readied himself to break up the inevitable backlash, but someone got in before him. The little boy that was Neal was still close enough to hear, and rounded back to kick Hook in the shins. "_That's for being mean to my Papa!_" He took off before his victim had the chance to recover from his sudden injury.

Rumplestiltskin tried to hide a grin as he watched his nemesis grit his teeth in pain. He knew just how hard his son could kick, had been on the receiving end a few times when he was younger, and was pleasantly amused that Hook wouldn't swallow his masculine pride to admit to the agony the child had wreaked.

Sobering up and steeling himself for confrontation, he looked at the faces of Henry's rescue team.

Emma could hardly bring herself to speak. "What the hell...?"

"You need to get out of here, as quickly as possible."

"That's what we've been trying to do," Regina said.

"It's not just the Drome you need to worry about."

"We may not be safe from the Drome, but by all accounts we're safe from the Shadow. What is it we have to worry about?" Charming intervened.

"The Shadow may fear the Dromes but Pan does not. Why do you think he would allow such a monstrosity on his island? He likes them, thinks they're funny. He keeps them as pets and feeds them anyone who defies his whims. Soon the shadow discover exactly where we are and will fetch its Master. He can weave dreams as easily as the Dromes and can skip from one to another happily, thinks nothing of it. Pan will come."

Emma threw her hands up in defeat. "How the hell will we get out? We don't know where the Drome is."

Gold shook his head, "You cannot kill the Drome. It is too well disguised, too powerful, even for you. However, there is another way out."

"Another way," Regina scoffed. "You never told me there was another way out of a Drome web!"

He glanced away from her dismissively. "I taught you everything_ you_ know, not everything_ I_ know."

With a flourish of his hands and a puff of smoke, something blazed behind them, appearing in an instant. Turning around immediately, they gaped at the materialization of a door, standing unaccompanied by any wall. It shone, radiating with ethereal light.

"Walking through the door will allow you to pass though these world of dreams and wake up exactly where your body is in Neverland." His hand glowed purple as he summoned an object into the palm of his hand. Gold ceremoniously enclosing whatever it was into his grandson's palm, continuing his instructions. "Head straight for the ship and use that to take you back to Storybrooke. The enchanted compass that you haven't realized Hook stole will be able to guide you there even though it is hidden from detection."

Henry couldn't resist opening up his hand to observe the gift. It was small, a translucent seed. "A magic bean!" he gasped.

"What good is that? Its just part of the dream."

"Not exactly." Gold lowered himself to Henry's level. "Dromes are funny things, they are able to make a believable reality from our dreams. If we are trapped in their world, we can reverse the effect. Make reality from the dream." He folded Henry's hand around the bean again and squeezed gently. "If you believe, the bean will be with you when you wake."

He stood up again and turned his attention to the onlookers. "Pan will soon be here. We must hurry." Agreeing wholeheartedly to get out as soon as possible, one by one they filed through the door.

When it was only Emma and Gold left, she nodded to him and made to step through. Quick as lightning, his hand shot out, and grabbed hold of her wrist. "Take care of Henry."

On instinct, she immediately wrenched it away, before his words caught up with her. Her brow furrowed "What?

His eyes met hers and for the first time that she could remember, it wasn't a challenge or in defiance. It was in defeat. "You must look after him, Miss Swann," He reiterated. "Take care of my grandson."

She hesitated. Her guts churned in apprehension, "Why does this sound eerily like goodbye?"

"Because I will not be coming with you. I cannot come with you. The only way for the target to leave the dream is to kill the Drome but others may leave, so long as they know the way. I swore that no matter the cost, I would protect the boy." He gave her a melancholy smile, eyes fluttering to the door still ajar. "My undoing," he said sadly to himself. "His best chance is for you and the others to get him home, to where Pan cannot reach. And for that, I am willing play my part. Pan may like Dromes, but he knows nothing of their nature. So long as the Drome is still alive, he will assume we are all within this world. His mistake. I will delay him as long as possible to give you a chance to escape."

She frowned, this was altogether too close to her final words with Neal. She had never seen the resemblance between them until today, and now she wished she hadn't. She was desperate not to lose anyone else. "We can do something. Anything."

"This is what I wish. A last request, if you will. I do this to honour my son, that which I should have done long ago. Be safe Emma."

Something in that sentence flicked on a switch in her head. The idea quickly reviewed the conversation from the last ten minutes and formed into a theory. "You know, don't you? You knew where the Drome is all this time," She said, accusation lacing her words.

He didn't even bat an eyelash. "I've known since the moment we woke up here."

_"Papa! Papa!"_ They were interrupted by the Dream Baelfire, appearing at his side and demanding attention. Gold drew the boy into a hug, a smile at his lips and tears in his eyes. _"Papa, the baker gave me an extra honeycake. So you can share this one with Mama._"

"Good. Good thing, Bae."

"But why?" she demanded. "Why won't you just kill it and get out of here? We can survive without the need to sacrifice yourself."

"Because it is very clever and very, very powerful. Because it gave me everything I could want. And because it took the form of the one thing I cannot destroy." Rumplestiltskin kissed the top of the Drome's head.

**~xXx~**

**_"Dream a Dream and see what a dream can be._**

_**What makes Dreamer's feel?**_

_**Dreams are more than real.**_

_**Why does dreaming ****keep revealing**_

_**What our lives conceal?**_

_**Dream a dream and see what a dream can be**_

_**When I wake I see one more mystery**_

_**While our lives run, is there someone**_

_**dreaming you and me?**_

_**Dream a dream and see why sweet dreamers dream."  
- **_**Dennis Lee, 'Dream a dream (and see)'**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT, I do not own Dromes, I do not own that quote. **

**This all came from a single thought as to how the characters would react when given their ultimate dreams. It eventually boiled down to what Rumplestiltskin would wish for. I hope I did it justice.**

**If you want to read more about Dromes, I recommend 'The Wee Free Men' by Terry Pratchett, on which these creatures were based. Having Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland and Frankenstein appearing in OUAT made me think about what a more modern story would be like in this world. And naturally I thought of my favourite author and Tiffany Aching, who entered Fairyworld to face the Queen *coughBlueFairycough*. Who knows, maybe Discworld is one of the realms accessible by magic hat.**

**To people who made it this far, please Read and Review. Thank you.**


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